


Sleepy Time Tea

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Cunnilingus, F/F, Kissing, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22453636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Yaz hasn't been able to sleep. The Doctor decides to help.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 73





	Sleepy Time Tea

"Yaz," the Doctor said, and Yaz jumped.

"I'm awake!" Yaz yelped, and she nearly knocked over her chair as she stood up suddenly. "So awake! Look at how awake I am!"

"Yaz," the Doctor said, and she raised an eyebrow. "I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look a wreck. You need to get some sleep."

"I've been sleeping fine," Yaz said, and she yawned so widely that her jaw cracked.

The Doctor sighed, and she lifted up the kettle, pouring hot water into the mug. "Yaz," the Doctor said, and she kept her tone gentle, "you're asleep on your feet. Your eyes are so droopy you need toothpicks to keep them up." She attached the little manatee shaped tea infuser to the side of the mug, and then she went to rummage through the cupboards for a biscuit. 

"I'm fine," Yaz insisted. "Might be a little sleepy, but it's fine." 

"You haven't been sleeping," the Doctor said, and she kept her tone firm. "What's been keeping you up?" She put the mug of tea on the table, and she put the packet of biscuits on the table next to the mug. 

"Nothing in particular," Yaz said, but she was avoiding the Doctor's eyes. "You ever just had a few bad bouts of insomnia? It's that kind of thing." She sat back down, and she rested her chin on her palm.

"I've had some bad insomnia," the Doctor agreed. "Best treatment for it tends to be dealing with the problem. I'm here, if you wanna talk."

Yaz gave the Doctor an inscrutable look, and she took a biscuit. "You think the best treatment is to talk about it?" 

"It can be, yeah," said the Doctor, and she took her own biscuit. 

"So what's been keeping you from sleeping?" Yaz asked, and the Doctor tried not to wince. Yaz was entirely too clever. 

"I'm not human," the Doctor reminded Yaz. "I don't need to sleep like you lot do." 

"Something has been bothering you," said Yaz, and she fixed the Doctor with a raised eyebrow. 

The Doctor nudged the mug towards Yaz. "So what's been bothering you?" she countered. There was a conversation that they were going to have, and it wasn't _that_ one. 

"I just..." Yaz took the mug, and she took a sip of it. She wrinkled her nose, then took another biscuit. "I keep remembering."

"Remembering?" The Doctor chewed on her own biscuit. 

"Yeah," said Yaz. "That place we got sent to. And then there was the scorpion queen..." She shivered, and then she took a deep glug of tea, then winced, grabbed another biscuit and shoved it into her mouth. "I feel like there's been a lot of me being kidnapped lately."

"I'm sorry about that," said the Doctor, and she reached a hand out, resting it on Yaz's, then pulled it back at the shock of warm skin against her own. 

This body liked touching a little too much, and she didn't want to scare her Fam. Bad things came around when she got too engaged with humans. 

"And it's just been..." Yaz took another slug of tea. She didn't pull a face this time. "I feel like if I fall asleep, what if something gets me? What if I wake up someplace else?" 

"You're in the TARDIS," the Doctor said gently. "Nothing can get you here. I wouldn't let that happen."

"I mean, you say that, but..." Yaz yawned widely, and her jaw cracked. "Those th-th-things came in..."

"They won't be coming back," the Doctor assured Yaz. "I'm going to keep you safe. I promise." 

Yaz took another drink, then set her mug down carefully. "I know," she said, and she yawned again. "I know it's irrational." She sighed, drank more tea. "What is this, anyway? It tastes like fox squeezings."

"Have another biscuit," said the Doctor, indicating the packet. She took one herself.

"So what kind of tea is this?" Yaz repeated, eyeing the mug. It had an echidna wearing a space helmet on it - the Doctor had bought it in Space Sydney. 

"Special sleepy time tea," the Doctor said, "from the planet Somnabulis." 

" _Really_?" Yaz put the tea down on the table, and it sloshed. The Doctor winced. "You're giving me sleeping medication?"

"It's not sleeping medication," the Doctor said, defensive in spite of herself. "It's tea! Tea isn't medication!"

"You gave me something to... make me sleepy," Yaz mumbled, and she yawned again. 

“You were already sleepy,” the Doctor pointed out. “You need to sleep,” she added. 

“I would’ve been able to sleep on my… on my…” Another yawn. 

“I just sped the process along,” argued the Doctor. “You’ll feel better for sleeping.”

Yaz rested her folded arms on the table, and she rested her forehead on them. “We’re gonna… talk about this,” Yaz murmured, and then she was quiet.

The Doctor nudged Yaz with her foot. “Yaz,” she said, “c’mon. Let’s get you to bed.” She hadn’t expected it to hit her that quickly - Yaz must have been more tired than the Doctor had thought. 

“Mmm,” Yaz mumbled. 

“Am I gonna have to take you to bed?” The Doctor asked. 

“Mm.”

The Doctor sighed, and she came around to the other side of the table, and she prodded her in the side. “Yaz,” she said. “C’mon.” 

Yaz sat up slowly, and she yawned again, blinking up at the Doctor with a slightly loopy expression. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“We’re getting you to bed,” the Doctor said, and she tugged Yaz up to her feet. 

“Buy me a drink first,” Yaz mumbled, and she leaned against the Doctor, snuffling into her neck. “You smell nice.”

“I do my best,” said the Doctor, and she began to walk towards Yaz’s bedroom.

* * *

As soon as Yaz was laid down on her bed, she was out like a light. 

It was a bit of a problem, since she was still in all of her clothes, complete with her shoes. 

“You are not gonna be happy if you wake up and have gotten your shoes all over your bed,” the Doctor said, standing at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed. Yaz didn't even seem to be bothered by the fact that the lights were still on. 

Yaz didn’t say anything. She was snoring, flat on her back, a hand on her belly as it rose and fell with her calm, even breathing. 

“You are gone from the world,” said the Doctor, and she was grinning in spite of herself. “Lesson learned.” She sat at the foot of the bed, and she went to work removing Yaz’s shoes. She tossed them into a corner - Yaz seemed to be more of a “fold it and put it away” type, but the Doctor couldn’t be bothered. 

“I just forget how delicate you humans are,” the Doctor said, as she tugged Yaz’s socks off, and gave Yaz’s foot a squeeze. 

Yaz had tiny, delicate feet, with long, tapering toes. Her jeans looked tight, and the Doctor frowned. “That can’t be comfortable to sleep in,” she told Yaz. “We should get you out of those. And that bra. I know for a _fact_ that sleeping in a bra is uncomfortable.” The Doctor shrugged out of her coat, she kicked off her own boots, wincing as they thumped onto the floor. 

Yaz stayed sleeping.

She didn’t wake up when the Doctor climbed onto the bed with her, straddling her thighs and fiddling with her belt. “This is easier when tight pants aren’t quite so popular,” she told Yaz, as she fumbled Yaz’s jeans down and off her legs, rolling them down her thighs and calves, tossing them off to the side of the bed inside out. 

The Doctor let her hand rest on Yaz’s thigh for a moment, luxuriating in the sensation of warm skin under her palm. Yaz was wearing an old pair of panties, washed into beigeness. She could just make out the shadow of Yaz’s pubic hair, and _no_ , that wasn’t a thing she was going to pay attention to.

The Doctor rubbed her eyes, and she sighed. She still needed to get the other woman’s bra off - the Doctor had fallen asleep in a bra often enough to know that it resulted in waking up uncomfortable. This was all going to dangerous places, she could _tell_ it was dangerous places. Sometimes she thought she might die from skin hunger. 

She couldn’t let anyone get close to her, not after Clara, after Rose, after Amy, after Martha, after every companion that seemed to fall in love with her. She couldn’t have that. 

But she had to get Yaz out of that bra. And it wasn’t as if Yaz would remember this, wouldn’t be able to form any kind of… inappropriate attachment, if she couldn’t recall anything. Anyway, it wasn’t as if the Doctor had taken any of her own clothes off. It was all perfectly fine. 

(The Doctor was well aware that she was making excuses for herself, but she had gotten good at ignoring her own gut feelings at this point.) 

She ended up pushing Yaz's shirt up, pausing now and then to just luxuriate in the warmth of Yaz's skin. She licked her lips, as the bottom of Yaz’s bra was revealed, and she licked them again when she saw that Yaz’s nipples were hard through the thin fabric.

“It’s not that cold in here,” the Doctor told Yaz, and she was aware that she was talking out loud to drown out the beating of her hearts, “so something must have you excited.Having good dreams?” She paused, swallowed. She was going to have to bend over Yaz, or manhandle her upright, to undo the clasp at the back of the bra. She ended up wrapping her arms around her friend, half pulling her up, to fumble the clasp open. 

“This is why I only wear the pull over type,” the Doctor said distractedly, as she carefully undid all of the hooks. She kept Yaz in her arms for a moment, as that strange single heartbeat thudded against her chest, and Yaz’s hot breath was ghosting against her neck. It was ticklish, raising the goosebumps up and down the Doctor’s back, and shivered, nosing into Yaz’s temple. She could smell shampoo, pheromones, sweat, soap. Yaz was due to start ovulating in two to three days, and was teetering on the edges of a cold. The Doctor could smell the exhaustion that had been weighing her down - the Doctor should have done this a lot sooner.

The tension in the bra went slack, and Yaz’s breasts were soft against the Doctor’s chest. The Doctor let her fingers linger along the span of Yaz’s back, the knobs of her spine, and then she let go, regretfully lowering Yaz back down onto the bed. Yaz’s nipples were still hard, and the Doctor scrunched her face up, deep in thought. 

_She’s asleep_ , thought some part of her. _What she doesn't know won't hurt her._ It was a horrible thing to think, but it was drowned out by the rapid beat of the Doctor's hearts in her ears. Her hand was only shaking a little bit as she watched it hover over Yaz's left breast. 

The Doctor pushed the cups of Yaz's bra up over her breasts, and she licked her lips. Yaz really had wonderful breasts. They were a full handful, soft and full, with hard little nipples like raspberries. The Doctor's mouth was already starting to water. She took Yaz's breast into her hand, and she squeezed it gently. 

Yaz made a quiet little noise, squirming under the Doctor's hand, and the Doctor froze. Yaz's heart was beating desperately under her palm. Her nipple was still hard. Yaz was quieting down again, and she only let out a little sigh when the Doctor pinched her nipple again. 

The Doctor took both of Yaz's breasts in her hands, thumbing the nipples. "I can't stop thinking of you like this," she admitted, because it was easier to be honest to a sleeping human. "Of what you'd look like without a shirt on." She pushed Yaz's breasts together, just to admire the cleavage. "The last person I touched like this was River - she has a bit more up top than you, but…" The Doctor licked her lips, and tweaked Yaz's nipple, "you look _amazing_." She watched the way Yaz's breast jiggled from the pinching, and she licked her lips. She shouldn't have been thinking what she was thinking, and she _definitely_ shouldn't have been doing what she was doing. 

"In for a penny," she murmured, and then she was bending forward, mouthing at one nipple. She flickered her tongue along the tip of Yaz's nipple, then sucked on it a little harder, taking more of Yaz's breast into her mouth. She kneaded at Yaz's other breast, and she moaned. 

She was surrounded by the scent of Yaz, of warm human skin, of salt. She let go of Yaz's breast, to rest her ear against Yaz's chest. She let herself get lost into the spooky emptiness of Yaz's single heartbeat, and she clung to Yaz's warm skin. 

"I wish you were awake," the Doctor murmured into Yaz's skin. "I wish you could hold me." She would never have admitted that if Yaz was awake, to herself or to Yaz. "I wish…" She shivered, and she tried not to think about how wet her face was. 

The Doctor went back to sucking on Yaz's nipples, moving between one and the other. She pressed Yaz’s breasts together, nuzzled her nose into the space made by it. She let herself drown in the feeling of soft skin against her face, greedily taking in the scent of Yaz, the feeling of Yaz’s chest rising and falling against her own. 

The Doctor came up for air, and she looked up the line of Yaz’s body. She could hear the human’s heart beating that much faster, although Yaz still seemed to be deeply asleep. “I always forget how delicate you humans are,” the Doctor said, pressing a kiss to the side of Yaz’s breast, and she nuzzled her cheek into more soft skin. “I could probably set off a rocket by your ear and you’d sleep through it.”

Yaz kept sleeping, her eyes flicking behind their lids. 

Another idea was brewing in the Doctor’s mind, and she probably shouldn’t have been pursuing it - shouldn’t have even done any of this, shouldn’t have given Yaz that tea, shouldn't have taken any of these humans into her TARDIS, shouldn’t have left Gallifrey, shouldn’t have been born. 

.. Wow, but that was a dark road to go down. Although this was a dark place, wasn’t it, sprawled on top of a human, mouthing at her breasts while she was unconscious? 

“Wouldn’t want you to have bad dreams,” said the Doctor, and she was shifting lower, nuzzling into Yaz’s belly, then pressing a kiss to the delicate spot right under Yaz’s navel. She let her hand slide down between Yaz’s legs, pushing her thighs open. She found the fabric hot and slimy with Yaz’s arousal, and she shivered, licking her lips. “No… bad dreams,” she murmured, as her finger pressed into Yaz’s cleft.

The Doctor made short work of Yaz’s knickers, pulling them down and off, then letting them drop off the side of the bed. She held Yaz’s lay on her stomach, her hands on Yaz’s inner thighs, and she sighed, resting her cheek on Yaz’s inner thigh. She could smell more of Yaz’s arousal, smell the thick, musky pheromones sending out their desperate chemical messages; _love me_ , _want me_ , _choose me_. 

The Doctor slid her hands under Yaz’s backside, and she pulled the human closer to her. She pressed her face into Yaz’s cunt, and she licked, from entrance to clit. 

Yaz made another noise in her sleep - a long, quiet moan. She let go of whatever tension she had been holding, and seemed to go even more limp against the Doctor. 

“Sh,” the Doctor murmured into the smooth, wet skin of Yaz’s labia. “Sh, sh, sh… stay asleep, Yaz.” She kept her licking gentle, soft, and she let herself get lost in the sensations. Coarse hair under her nose, the taste of musk and salt and human arousal, all of that soft, lovely skin. She delicately pressed her mind against Yaz’s as she drew little figure eights against Yaz’s clit, and she tried to catch hints of whatever it was that Yaz was dreaming about.

Running. She could feel the energy in Yaz’s legs collecting, then releasing, could feel the way Yaz’s whole body seemed to be moving in her thoughts. She sighed, as the Doctor re-angled her head, sliding her tongue inside of Yaz, her nose nestled up against Yaz’s clit. She licked and licked, as more wetness gushed out, coating her chin, dripping down her neck. She was going to need to wash her shirt after she finished, wash her shirt, wash her face. She pulled back when her respiratory bypass started to kick in, to suck on Yaz’s clit, swirling the tip of her tongue along the head. 

She liked the way Yaz’s cunt kept spasming against her mouth, as the rest of her stayed quiet and still. She liked the way Yaz’s clit throbbed against her tongue, liked how Yaz’s legs would periodically tense, then relax even as Yaz herself stayed dead asleep.

At some point, Yaz gave a little gasp, and her hips rolled forward. Then she was going flat again, and she was breathing deeper. 

“Oh,” the Doctor murmured, as the taste of Yaz’s arousal changed, subtly. “Oh, that was a good one, wasn’t it?” She pressed a wet, sticky kiss to the inside of Yaz’s thigh, and she shifted on the bed. Then she winced. She was wet in her own boxers, wet enough that they were sticking to her inner thigh, slimy and cold. She could, in theory, do something about it; she could ride Yaz’s face, grind against Yaz’s thigh, make herself come with Yaz’s long tapering fingers.

No.

No, that would be too far, and the Doctor had already gone too far. She sat up, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, and she looked down at her human friend, sprawled out flat and snoring quietly. Yaz’s nipples were tender and swollen from the Doctor’s mouth, and her cunt was shiny with spit and slick. She looked utterly fucked out, and was sleeping the sleep of the just. 

“Sleep well, Yaz,” the Doctor murmured, and she leaned down, kissing Yaz on the forehead, then a quick brush of lips on lips. Yaz’s lips were dry, and they were warm. The Doctor pulled back, looking down at Yaz’s face, and then she bent down again, and kissed her again, a little harder. She pressed her tongue into Yaz’s slack mouth, and then she pulled back. 

“Good night, Yaz,” she said, and she patted her friend on the cheek. She carefully pulled Yaz’s blanket up, tucking Yaz in, and then she collected her shoes and coat, carefully making her way out of Yaz’s room.


End file.
